Hold My Hand
by Ryeloza
Summary: Their love lives are more complicated than you might think.
1. Prue

**A/n: **Just a short project I'm cranking out to clear some of my writer's block. I've been working on a follow up piece to "Guide You Home," but I've been stalled on it for awhile now. Hopefully I'll have something more from one of my WIP up soon.

This will be four parts, most likely posted within four days.

**Hold My Hand**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Part One: Prue**

**One**

Sixth grade. That year was when everyone began to pair off. For a week or two a girl and a boy would be seen walking around holding each other's hands in the hallways at school. Rumors would fly and then a moment later said boy would be holding some other girl's hand instead.

Prue's first boyfriend was Harry Gergins. He was kind of dorky and not very popular, but most of the other boys were afraid of her. People whispered that she was too high and mighty for anyone to even think about asking her out. She'd responded by agreeing to hold Harry's hand for a week.

On a Thursday afternoon in October, four days after she had said yes to Harry, Luke Yuegers asked her if she would be his girlfriend. Without even a fleeting thought of Harry, Prue had agreed. Luke was slightly more popular and certainly better looking than her first beau. That afternoon Harry came up to her locker and began talking to her. When Luke came up and took her hand in front of Harry, Harry's face had crumpled. Without a word, Prue walked away holding Luke's hand.

The gossipmongers all said that Prue Halliwell was just a heartbreaker.

**Two**

In many ways, hers and Andy's relationship was a cornucopia of clichés. She was a cheerleader and he was a jock. She was his girl next door—well, behind the door technically. They'd been childhood friends that had slowly grown to something more. And, perhaps most typical of all, they lost their virginity at the prom.

When they met again, years later, they laughed heartily at what very archetypal characters they'd been that night. The three-star hotel room, a group of rowdy football players and their dates as the background noise, a bottle of very cheap wine in the ice bucket. They'd drunk it fast, but Prue only remembered being slightly buzzed. Most of the disorienting, head-pounding excitement came when she'd unzipped her dress and her blush had rushed from her cheeks all the way down her chest. She hadn't worn underwear and she remembered quite clearly how Andy's eyes glazed over at the sight of her.

The sex wasn't very good, but Prue kept the memory of Andy's hand holding hers afterwards burned in her brain for the rest of her life. No man had done that since. Not even Andy in their subsequent trysts, both that summer and when they were reunited years later.

**Three**

Prue wasn't one for unrequited love affairs. She'd learned early on that the best way to get what you wanted was to simply ask for it. In her experience, boys were generally eager to acquiesce. In the five years since she'd had her first boyfriend, no one had turned her down.

Then came college.

She'd been fresh off of her breakup with Andy and she despised the freshman seminar everyone was forced to take. Instead of listening to the professor, Prue spent most of the time staring at the back of Jim Tyler's neck and daydreaming about running her fingers through his too-long hair. It wasn't long before she made up her mind that she might better spend her time sitting next to Jim in class, threading her fingers through his or running a hand up his thigh to see if he'd be able to stifle his reaction during the lecture. Certainly the hour would pass more quickly.

After class one day she leaned forward and tapped Jim on the shoulder, purposefully letting her shiny hair fall forward and tapping a pen against her bottom lip. Jim turned around and raised an eyebrow and, quite bluntly, she said, "I really like the back of your head. I just wanted to see if the front measured up."

In her imagination, Jim had promptly asked, "And does it?" or had given her a sly smile that indicated that she should give her stalk answer of, "Take me to dinner and I'll let you know." In reality, Jim rolled his eyes, stood up and walked away. Several people around her, who had seen the exchange, snickered and she'd blushed scarlet in anger.

Still, by the end of the semester she had a different boy who sat next to her and distracted her during class. One whose name she couldn't even remember just a few years later. It continued to bother her, though, that Jim never looked at the pair of them with a twinge of what could have been gleaming in his eyes.

**Four**

When Prue looked back at her relationship with Roger, she couldn't remember much detail. Things about other boyfriends—the scent of aftershave or the curve of a spine or the deep throated chuckle in the early morning—stuck with her for years after. Roger became a blur almost overnight. How astonishing that he was the only boyfriend she ever came close to marrying.

After she'd ended things the only moment that kept replaying in her mind was one of their last. Over and over again she opened the door to his office with the words, "Roger, are you ready to go?" poised on her tongue. Over and over again she saw Roger, pushing Phoebe against the desk and leaning into her personal space, his lips practically on Phoebe's neck. The image was burned in her brain, the only lasting memory of such an important chapter in her life.

Because in the end, the one thing she really remembered about Roger was that he almost cost her her youngest sister.

**Five**

She became a widow without ever marrying.

Even with Andy's ex-wife there looking gaunt and faint, Prue was the one with that air of impenetrable grief. Darryl, despite attending Andy's wedding and knowing his ex-wife, stood by Prue's side as though to catch her if she fell. Andy's parents spoke to Prue in tones of shared pain. How strange that she should be the widow when she and Andy never would have married even if they'd had forever.

Still, deep down she knew that her shroud of sorrow, so like a spouse's, had nothing to do with the legalities and technicalities of marriage. Andy had been her best friend and she'd given him partial ownership of her soul years ago. And that was what she mourned; the part of her—the best part of her—that Andy held in his heart. Without him she was nothing that she should be. Without him she was incomplete.


	2. Piper

**Disclaimer (since I forgot it before): **As I'm sure you all know, I don't own _Charmed_. In fact, I never have and I never will. Oh well. At least I get to play in their world.

**Hold My Hand**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Part Two: Piper**

**One**

In kindergarten, Piper's best friend was a boy named Alan Parkes. They sat next to each other and Piper let Alan use her crayons because his always seemed to break. Her mom bought her the thick kind and they held up better in the pressure of Alan's hand.

Most of the time they'd play together at recess. Piper was used to the roughhousing games of Prue and Andy and felt at ease running around with Alan and the other boys in the class. Some days she'd pick flowers or play with sidewalk chalk instead or Alan would be put in a time out for pushing someone too hard, but they always came together again by the end of the day.

The first day Piper came back to school after her mother died, she sat on the stone wall in the playground and stared at her shoes. If she hadn't been so afraid of getting into trouble, she might have crept away to the playground the second graders used and found Prue. Instead she sat, and only felt a little better when Alan came over and wrapped his arms around her and squeezed.

Piper learned at the tender age of five that nothing lasted forever. People left, life changed and she couldn't stop these things from happening. Eventually she needed new crayons, but she didn't have the courage to protest when Grams bought the thin ones instead of the thick ones. For the rest of the year she and Alan shared broken crayons at their desks.

**Two**

Piper's first kiss was one she would rather have forgotten. By ninth grade she felt like every other girl in the school had been kissed but her. Even Phoebe, nearly three years her junior, had gotten her first kiss. She'd always gotten along well with boys, but they generally saw her as a pal, not a girlfriend. And after the horrific disaster that had been her speech for class secretary, she'd been certain no boy would ever ask her out.

Her jaw had dropped when Trent Meyers asked her out one rainy Wednesday afternoon. A stuttered agreement later and she suddenly found herself with an escort to the football game on Friday night. For the rest of the week she'd floated on air, dancing around the house and raiding Prue's closet.

The game was miserable. The rain had continued throughout the week and the team performed poorly. But Piper hadn't noticed anything but the pressure of Trent's hand in hers as they sat on the cold, hard bleachers. When the team finally scored—not even a touchdown, just a field goal—Trent had jumped up, taking Piper with him. In his excitement, he grabbed her and kissed her right on the mouth.

Her euphoria didn't last long. Phoebe, who had been angry with her for one reason or another and who always snooped in Prue's diary, crushed her later that night by revealing that Prue had gotten Andy to get Trent to agree to take Piper out. As a favor.

When Trent called the next day, Piper had Grams lie and say she had the stomach flu.

**Three**

After college, every person she knew had apparently decided to tie the knot. Invitations came in waves, beautiful embossed fonts on flowered backgrounds. Piper kept them all tacked to the cork board in her room in the apartment; a tribute to the joining of so many people. If the marriage failed, she morbidly took down the invitation and ripped it in two, the pieces littering the bottom of her trash can.

With each invitation, of course, came the inevitable.

"Who are you bringing to the wedding?"

"Does your date want the chicken or the fish?"

"Does he dance? The best dates always do."

She abhorred this. The expectation. The pressure. "A wedding will put a guy in the right mindset," one of her friends used to say to her. Piper didn't want to put a guy in that mindset. She just wanted someone who could ease the loneliness that came with the coupling of all of her friends.

Prue's wedding was the worst, of course. A family wedding and an escort was practically a necessity. But Piper wasn't seeing anyone and she didn't see why she had to find someone simply to appease other people. Grams was the only one who agreed, waving the idea off as silly. Of course, she had a date.

It was only after, when Prue had called off the wedding and her sisters had stopped speaking and her world had been turned upside-down by Grams' death, that Piper finally found someone. In the six months they were together, though, she and Jeremy never attended a wedding.

**Four**

After her mother died and her father left, Piper kept her parents' wedding album next to her bed and looked through the pages every night. Grams used to tisk at this as though she was committing a grievous error by not taking the album away from Piper. Maybe, in the end, Grams was right. Every night Piper gazed at the young, happy people in the photos and every night she became more aware that love couldn't be enough to keep two people together. By the age of ten, she was more jaded about marriage than she had any right to be.

When Leo proposed to her in the bathroom she'd been shocked. But as the surprise faded she was left with the feeling of a panic so pure it flamed inside of her like heartburn. In some sick way she'd long-dreaded a proposal because all she could see were the smiling faces of her parents whose lives had fallen apart. Thus far in hers and Leo's relationship there had been more than enough excuses for why they couldn't or wouldn't be able to make it. If they actually made it to the alter those reasons would be stripped away, and the end of their relationship would be no one's fault but their own.

Piper didn't think she could deal with the inevitable loss; the irrevocable guilt; the pain of failing herself and Leo. Saying no had been a natural extension.

Changing her mind was the most courageous thing she ever did.

**Five**

In the end, she was never able to fully trust in their love. She didn't doubt herself. She didn't even really doubt Leo. When he'd given up his wings for her, she'd known that he would never leave her again. But she'd always known that love wasn't enough and the years had not been kind to them.

Even after the Angel of Destiny finally returned Leo it was many months before Piper was able to sleep through the night. She would wake in a cold sweat, certain that he wasn't there and breathing heavily in panic until Leo's arms wrapped around her, his words soothing in her ear. Her nightmares waned eventually, but nearly every night her hand unconsciously sought Leo's. She needed the solid reminder of his physical presence for her peace of mind.

Every time a demon hurt him, every time that an Elder dared show his face, every time that loss encroached on their lives her throat constricted and she felt a fresh wave of doubt wash over her. _This can't last. This can't last. This can't last._

Despite her disbelief, though, Leo never gave up. With him tethered to the ground, his hand holding hers so she couldn't blow away, they made it to the end. Together.


	3. Phoebe

**A/n: **I apologize for the delay in this chapter. I didn't have access to a computer last night.

**Hold My Hand**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Three: Phoebe**

**One**

When Phoebe was ten, Grams invested in a VCR. Probably she came to regret that decision because it led to Piper buying Phoebe a copy of _Cinderella_ for her birthday which led to Phoebe watching _Cinderella_ at least once a day. Home from school, homework, watch _Cinderella_. The daily routine was engrained in Phoebe's brain for at least six months.

For as long as she could remember, she'd loved fairy tales. Happily ever after endings that Piper and Prue both seemed too jaded to appreciate. Love stories that stood the test of time. At ten, Phoebe wanted nothing more to than to fall in love. Unfortunately, all of the boys in her class seemed utterly disinterested.

The boy Phoebe liked the most, Roger Stalway, looked just like Prince Charming in _Cinderella_. Dark hair, dark eyes and he was the tallest boy in class. Phoebe knew that she was in love with him, no questions asked. He was everything she'd ever dreamed. In her mind she was sure that he could fight dragons or mean big sisters like it was no big deal. He was perfect.

Of course, what Phoebe wanted most of all was to be kissed. The best part of the story began after the kiss. The happily ever after. Plus, she kind of wanted to know what it was like. She'd seen Prue and Brendan Treilkey kissing one night and it didn't look anything like it did in the movies. In her ten-year-old mind, these thoughts dominated her daydreams and one day at recess she simply couldn't stand it any longer. Without a thought, she walked up to where Roger sat with some other boys, put her hands on his cheeks so she could see his face, and pressed her lips against his. For ten seconds, she was in heaven.

When she pulled away from Roger, the dreamy expression on her face melted as her rubbed the back of his hand across his lips. "Ew," he said.

Phoebe shoved him and stalked away.

**Two**

In high school, Phoebe made out with a lot of guys. Sometimes it went further than making out, but most of the time it didn't. Frankly, she didn't like the idea of being tied down to someone when she had so much more fun exploring her options. Most of the other girls in school, however, trolled the halls for guys they could call "boyfriends" and couldn't understand Phoebe's reluctance to settle on one boy.

So they started calling her Freebie.

Really, Phoebe didn't care too much. She didn't have a lot of girl friends—two sisters were more than enough, really—and the guys who took the rumors too seriously got a glare or a shove. They could call her what they wanted and she wouldn't care. By that time, Prue and Piper were long-gone from the school anyway. She figured they'd never find out.

One day in October, she was walking to the parking lot with Troy Luff, just holding his hand. She'd never even made out with him, but she thought he was nice and kind of wanted him to come to her birthday party as her date. A couple of girls began to taunt her as she walked past.

"Hey, Freebie, got another live one, huh?"

"Yeah. You gonna go give Troy oral behind the bleachers?"

"Better watch out, Troy. I hear she's got some serious VDs."

They were almost out of earshot, almost out of the range of their cackles, when Phoebe heard the first girl shout, "Well I heard that it runs in the family. Her mom went to this school twenty years ago and I heard she was a big slut too!"

Phoebe's hand dropped Troy's without a second thought. The next thing she knew, she'd grabbed the girl by the lapels of the blazer she wore, pulled her off of the wall she'd been sitting on, and punched her right in the jaw. The girl screamed and Phoebe got in one good kick before she felt arms grab her from behind and pull her away.

"Let go of me! Let! Go!"

But the person who had grabbed her wasn't Troy, like she'd thought. It was Prue, there to pick her up from school. The moment Phoebe heard her sister's voice in her ear, she went limp, the rage rushing out of her. In fact, she nearly felt like crying.

For the first time she realized that maybe the insults bothered her more than she thought.

**Three**

She knew that the rush she got from kissing a new man came from the idea that maybe he would be The One. The one to love her forever and whisk her away from her crappy life to a place where she'd live in bliss. And even if he wasn't The One, relationships were mostly fun along the way.

The first time that she ever cooked dinner for a guy was when she was living in New York. She stayed in a dump of an apartment with her friend Sasha; the place was hardly conducive to cooking a romantic meal, but Phoebe tried her best. Of course, every ten minutes she was on the phone wracking up the long distance bill to get help from Piper. And there ended up being more food stuck on the surfaces of her kitchen than on the plates. And worst of all, when Clay took the first bite of her risotto his face contorted in such a way that he could have joined the circus as a side act.

So in the end Clay made spaghetti and they ended up feeding one another off of paper plates. When Phoebe licked the sauce off of the corner of Clay's mouth, dinner was forgotten entirely.

Yeah, relationships were fun.

**Four**

Phoebe had never had a relationship end well.

Mostly the break-ups were her fault. She was terrible at them. The few boys she'd actually dated in high school had sometimes gotten notes passed in class. In college things were as simple as showing up to a party with another guy. Once she was slightly more grown up, she actually had to take the time to end things in person, but those went no better. Awkward versions of "it's not you, it's me" or full-out fights. They never, ever ended well.

She'd figured out long ago that as good as she was at the beginning of the relationship was as bad as she was at the end. Somehow she always reached a point of boredom or anxiety or annoyance that simply didn't translate well into finesse. And she didn't really see the need to improve this part of her personality; once she met The One, he'd never have to see how tactless she was.

She hadn't counted on the paradigm that was Cole.

When she and her sisters vanquished him, her grief had been so consuming that she felt as though she were drowning in it. She breathed it, ate it, lived it every single day. But she'd never thought he would miraculously return. No one she loved ever had before and she never expected Cole to be any different.

Cole always kept her surprised.

At the first sign he might be back, Phoebe had been shocked. Gradually, the shock wore thin and in its place, emotions she'd oppressed for much too long bubbled to the surface. Every single thing she hated about herself had become a startling reality while she had been married to Cole. Every single thing she'd ever tried to keep from her grandmother, her sisters, herself, had come out into the open for the whole world to see. With Cole gone, she'd hardly seen need to bring these aspects of herself out again for discussion. Her sisters, apparently, agreed, because they never spoke of it either. Cole was gone and so those aspects of Phoebe were gone too.

But they weren't. Phoebe could feel them stirring in her blood and she broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of becoming so loathsome again. As summer wore on, her panic grew and grew until one day she found a lawyer and filed for divorce.

She didn't stop loving him. She'd never stopped loving him. But she didn't love herself and she couldn't accept herself for her faults. Since she couldn't cut off part of her soul, she had to cut off her soul mate instead and hope that doing that would be enough.

It took her years to realize that by cutting off Cole, she cut off the best parts of herself too.

**Five**

She proposed to Coop.

After years of searching and trying on different people for size and ruining the one truly wonderful relationship she'd ever had, Phoebe was tired. So very, very tired and so very out of love with love. The thrill, the mystery, the hope, they were all gone and in their place was nothing but a lonely woman.

But Wyatt and Chris had given her a new sort of hope. A hope that something tepid could blossom into something scalding. That like and friendship could turn into love and passion. So two weeks after The Triad was gone, again, Phoebe asked Coop to marry her and he said yes. Simple as that.

So it wasn't the perfect fairy tale. What was?


	4. Paige

**A/n: **Sorry this last section is so late. I just got my new computer yesterday, so this is the first time I've had time to sit and write in several days. I hope you all enjoy this last segment.

**Hold My Hand**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Part Four: Paige**

**One**

Glen had four older sisters. Much older. Glen had been a surprise born when Gale, the oldest, was seventeen, and Margot, the youngest, was eleven. As a result, they doted on Glen and when Paige became his friend, they doted on her by association. Somehow it was only natural, since Paige spent half her waking hours at the Bellands' house anyway.

When Paige and Glen were six, Gale asked them both to be in her wedding; Glen as the ring bearer and Paige as the flower girl. Paige had been so excited that she practiced in her bedroom for hours, pacing a nonexistent aisle and throwing imaginary flowers. Perhaps most thrilling was that she got to wear a long, frilly pink dress.

On the big day, Paige stuck her head out the door and gazed down the long aisle. Certainly it hadn't been so long at the rehearsal? And why were there so many people? There must have been millions! In that moment, Paige knew she'd never be able to be the flower girl.

Before she could say anything, someone hustled her into the front of a line of bridesmaids and pulled both of the doors wide open. Paige squirmed, unwilling to go. Then, suddenly, a hand clasped hers. For a moment, Paige forgot everything going on around her. Her best friend was right next to her, holding her hand, and this was no different than all the times she'd practiced. With a smile, she dropped Glen's hand and they walked out together.

**Two**

The first time they "dated" they were in eighth grade.

All of their friends were dating people. Scads of girls and guys came and went from their group that year as fancies passed. The whole time, Paige and Glen sat around laughing at everyone else. The whole time, everyone kept asking them why they weren't together.

One night, Paige turned to Glen and said, "I don't know. Why aren't we?"

"No real reason, I guess."

And after that they were "dating."

Really, their relationship lasted one date the first time. Farrah Tambler had her fourteenth birthday party in the basement of her house and her parents, somewhat irresponsibly, let her have free reign of the party. No supervision. The make-out aspect automatically followed.

Paige sat in the dark and stared at Glen for a long time. He shrugged at her and she shrugged back and next thing you knew, they were kissing. The problem was, after awhile, Paige got bored. Kissing Glen wasn't nearly as fun as talking to Glen, which they couldn't do with his mouth against hers. When Paige pulled away, Glen seemed just as grateful.

They spent the rest of the night playing Parcheesi in the basement closet.

**Three**

Philip Lewicky was the high school love of her life.

They started dating the summer before her freshman year. The relationship lasted epically long by high school standards.

At first things had been blissful. Philip liked hanging out with her and her parents on family nights. They held hands in the hallways and didn't kiss too often in public, though their make-out sessions in private were legendary. They had similar tastes in movies and just really liked spending time together.

When they fell apart, it was all Paige's fault.

Philip had a bad case of appendicitis towards the end of the school year and was out of school for almost three weeks. He also missed Yolanda Kiefer's end-of-year party, to which Glen had gotten Paige and Philip invited. Paige tagged along with Glen and his date and that night was the first time she had a taste of alcohol.

She was fourteen.

Things disintegrated quickly after that. Paige began to spend more and more time with people she had met at the party. Friends of Yolanda's with access to booze and who thought Paige was "pretty cool" when she was intoxicated. Paige began to spend more and more nights out, breaking curfew more and more often. Fights with her parents were par for the course by the end of the summer.

She still loved Philip and always asked him to come along, though he rarely joined her. She never saw the breakup coming.

Three weeks after their sophomore year began Philip pulled her aside after school and told her that things weren't working out. "I don't like you when you're with those people, Paige. I don't like you when you're drunk." Completely affronted, Paige had scoffed, turned away, and vowed never to speak to Philip Lewicky again.

Still, when her parents died, Philip and Glen were the only people who stuck with her through it all.

**Four**

Out of college and barely into her job, Paige had been at rock bottom. She felt sick constantly, shaky and desperate for a drink. All day long she sat and dreamt of alcohol. Of the smooth burn down her throat that would heal all her wounds. She didn't care about anything or anybody.

At the time, she was dating a guy named Buzz. He was a couple of years younger than her, but he knew how to party and have a good time. He was everything Paige needed, especially once she looked back on that time.

Most nights, Buzz was out of her bed within minutes after they were finished having sex. Paige liked this about Buzz. He wasn't there to deal with her as she came down off the alcohol for the night. He wasn't there to see her twist and turn in bed, plagued by nightmares. He wasn't there when she woke up in a cold sweat and with trembling fingers reached for the bottle of scotch in her nightstand.

But all it took was one time. One time for Buzz to fall asleep next to her instead of leaving. One time for him to witness all her worst behaviors.

She hadn't realized that Buzz cared about her—she certainly didn't care about him—until he shook her awake from a nightmare and she could see the tenderness in his eyes with all the pain soberness brought. Disgusted, both with Buzz and herself, she'd leaned over him to get at her emergency supply. And then in that moment, Buzz figured out the part of her that she hadn't even been able to admit to herself.

The next night he stayed again, on purpose this time, and when she woke and reached for her bottle, she found it gone. "I flushed it down the toilet," Buzz told her calmly. "I flushed it all down the toilet." She'd raged, thrown things, and nearly scratched his eyes out, but Buzz stood strong. And he wouldn't leave. Finally, she fell into a feverish sleep.

When she woke—hours? days?—later she found Buzz still at her side, gently holding her hand. But to her shock, he wasn't alone. Her aunt and uncle, two of her cousins, Glen and Marie, her one good friend at work, stood around her bed.

"Paige," Buzz said, "we need to talk to you."

It was the beginning of the end of that chapter of her life.

**Five**

Paige had never spent much time sitting around and fantasizing about her wedding and marriage. There had been much more interesting things to think about and much more pressing problems as she grew older. Even in her relationships, she rarely thought of marriage as the goal.

Probably, her sisters exacerbated her distance from commitment. Between Piper and Leo's on-again, off-again, on-again marry-go-round and Phoebe's near obsession with marriage and babies that always seemed to result in heartache, Paige hadn't had much interest in joining their insanity. But that all changed when she met Henry.

In so many ways, her soul had been searching for Henry's for years, even if just to find some near-perfect level of understanding. Henry had lost his parents, had a rough personal life and had only come to his senses when the situation became critical. He'd managed to pull his life together. Even if they had never become lovers, Paige would always have needed him just to have one person in her life who really _knew_ what she used to be and how hard it had been to overcome that. Really, she hadn't realized how much that understanding had been lacking in her life until she found it.

The fact that Henry was funny, handsome, passionate, accepting of magic and completely in love with her was just an added bonus. For the first time in her life, she'd found someone with whom she knew marriage was the end game.

And it was better than any imagined life could have ever been.

* * *

**A/n: **I hope that everyone enjoyed this little project. I'm thinking of doing a companion piece with the guys (Andy, Leo, Cole and Henry), but I'll have to wait and see if inspiration strikes. Anyway, thanks to all of you who reviewed and let me know what you thought of the story. I'm so thrilled that so many of you liked it.

_Katie_


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